


Chores for the Underworld

by Lyrus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Ghosts, Graphic Description, One Shot, Other, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrus/pseuds/Lyrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Occasionally being the son of Hades sucks. Periodically even Nico di Angelo finds himself doing a chore or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chores for the Underworld

Nico di Angelo scratched his head with the tip of his pen, his black hair shifting as it was tussled by the point. Before him was a line of people. At least they were people at one point, anyway. They all stood, legs tapering away into mist, their feet disappearing into the air. Some could pass for normal, if normal consisted of transparent skin and a look of death. Some looked like the stuff from your worst nightmares. Children, bloody and torn. Adults with holes in their chest or head.

Sitting on his throne, dwarfed by the obsidian throne to his right, the son of Hades sighed dejectedly. Why did his father have to leave him these jobs? As soon as a mind numbing chore appeared it was “My boy, I need to entrust you with this task!” or “The flesh eating rabbits are ill-tempered again, I must tend to them!”

Every. Single. Time.

So, there he was, one black-jeaned leg thrown over the side of his large chair armrest, clipboard in hand. He clicked his pen it into action and got to work.

“Next!” he grumbled, just loud enough for the nearest ghost to hear.

A man with a gruesome injury limped forward. Nico’s eyebrows rose, not in fear or astonishment, but more complimentary. It wasn’t every day you saw a man with his face half-blown off, nose smashed at a sickly angle, left hand missing, and right leg amputated up to the knee.

As he knelt before the demigod the ghost seemed to try and straighten his camouflage colored jacket, as if wanting to impress the teenager.

“My Prince,” the ghost spoke, his voice drifting through the room with such solemnity it brought the whole event from “Doom and Gloom” to downright “Dismal”.

“What?” Nico scratched between his eyes with the back of his pen in irritation. “No. No, no. I’m not a Prince. What the hell? Where did you get that from?”

The ghost looked behind him, and Nico actually cringed ever so slightly when the man’s head lolled to one side, only connected by his throat and windpipe. After a moment’s hesitation the ghostly apparition confessed, “Michelle, in the back.”

Nico clicked his pen a few times, his impulse to fidget growing with his agitation. “I’m not a Prince. Don’t call me that again.” His tone was sharp enough to end the short conversation.

He looked down at the clipboard and his eyes scanned the first page. “Jay, is it?”

The ghost nodded in response, his head tugging back in place with the movement.

Nico continued reading the paper, his brown eyes scanning the line next to Jay’s name. A dark eyebrow slowly crept up in doubt. “It says you died from a car wreck,” he looked up from the page to Jay’s dismembered state. “Must have been one hell of a ride…”

Jay seemed to grumble something, but it was lost in the silence of the hall. Instead he cleared his throat, making a disgusting gagging sound. “Slammed into a gas truck.”

“Right…” Nico squinted his eyes momentarily, as if deciding on whether he believed the explanation. After a moment of silent hesitation he gave himself a shrug, figuring either way he didn’t care. “Whatever.”

Nico unslung his leg from his chair and clicked his pen again, crouching forward on his throne over his clipboard. “Seeing as this is your first Haunt you are assigned minimal tasks. You will be given smaller areas, such as closets, dog houses, bathrooms and pantries.” 

By now he could recite everything he needed, without having to look at forms or stop to ask for advice. “If you are found to be Haunting outside of your assigned space the harpies will be along to collect you and throw you into the Field of Punishment. Any questions?”

Jay the ghost looked aghast. “A bathroom?”

“That is what I said.” Nico clicked his pen, looking from his clipboard to Jay, his eyebrows raised and mouth curved into a frown. He idly wondered if the ‘car wreck’ hadn’t given Jay a decent amount of brain damage that had passed along to the Underworld.

“B-b-but, what about a bedroom, or, I don’t know, a whole house or something?”

Nico sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, slumping back in his chair. “That’ll happen once you’ve proven you can sufficiently scare people and complete a Haunting. Look, a bathroom isn’t that bad, I could have given you the dog house.”

A man five or six ghosts back flung his hand into the air and yelled, “I got the dog house once! A very lovely French Bulldog named Snorggles!”

Nico’s expression dropped as he leaned over to get a better look down the line. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Mark!” the ghost replied, hand still lingering in the air as if to clarify who was speaking.

Nico looked down his list and found Mark’s name. “And Mark is going back to the dog house.” He muttered, using his pen to jot the note next to Mark’s line.

“Look, are you done?” Nico asked, turning his attention back to Jay who now seemed utterly confused.

When there was no response other than indignant sputtering, Nico pointed over to a table, full of papers, folders, and small cards. “Go over there, get a card for your assignment, and sign some paper work. We’ll see you next week.” He flicked his pen in the direction of the table to get Jay moving in the proper direction.

Still looking like he wanted to have the last word Jay shuffled over to the table where he was greeted by a lengthy demon with yellow eyes. The entity extended a clawed hand, giving Jay a slip of paper.

“Next!” Nico sighed, propping his leg back up on the chair with a sight. Today was going to be a long day.


End file.
